


His Throne

by VixiGrey



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Daddy Kink, Developing Relationship, Fluff, In the end, M/M, Mind Games, POV First Person, Power Play, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-23
Updated: 2015-05-23
Packaged: 2018-03-28 23:50:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,740
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3874576
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VixiGrey/pseuds/VixiGrey
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This has been a long day. The hit ended up fine and I reported that to Jim, asking him if he needed anything else. He texted me back - Come home.  JM - and so I did.</p>
            </blockquote>





	His Throne

**Author's Note:**

> So this is my first smut that I have ever published.
> 
> I blame this on my holiday in Florence where I found this amazing armchair and then... my mind just slipped into this.
> 
> beta'd by - [Tothorin](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tothorin/pseuds/Tothorin)

This has been a long day. The hit ended up fine and I reported that to Jim, asking him if he needed anything else. He texted me back - Come home JM - and so I did.  
It has been nine month since we live together, being his bodyguard, is easier to do my job this way, but it isn't just that. It's two years that I work for him and one year and half since I met him.  
One month after I met him I was already in his bed so... Sharing a place makes that happen more frequently. Don't get me wrong, we are not together, I work for him and sometimes we end up in bed fucking each other brain out. Not that I wouldn't mind if one day our relationship will ever evolve.

I enter in the enormous apartmant at the last floor of the tallest building in London announcing ( as usual ) myself.

"Jim, I'm home."

As usual he doesn't reply.  
I throw my bag on the ground an I leave the my sniper shotgun by the door.

I walk in to the living room finally free, ready to take a shower after the hit that I have accomplished. But I am stucked.  
Jim is not, as always, sit in his old leather armchair.

He usually spends there his evenings, drinking whiskey, sat right when he reads a book or sprawled with his legs on the arm, and beack one the other, looking at the ceiling or scraping the leather, leaving marks, when god-knows-what is passing by his mind. The armchair makes him look even smaller than he is but I would never tell him that, I wouldn't get out alive I think.

Anyway now he is on the couch. He is laying on the couch on his elbows, reading a book.  
He doesn't say aything, he doesn't even look at me.  
He doesn't look pissed off, nervous or angry. Maybe he looks a little bored, but when isn't he?  
I swallow and walk forward the kitchen ( the loft is about the openspace stuff - Jim wanted it like this - so I can still see him ) and I pour myself some water. I drink looking at him, wondering about what could have made him change his usual position. Well Jim is... changeble about a lot of things, but this... Is not one of them. I remember the last time I sat on that armchair. It didn't end up well. 

Now I have another problem. If he is sprawled like that on the couch ( that usually is my place )  
where do I sit?  
Maybe he doesn't want me here, he wants to stay alone, but he all he needs to do in that case is just to look at me from the armchair and I would understand.  
Maybe it's a test. He wants me to take the initiave and sit on the armchair and then take out his frustration on me, then, if I am lucky, he will explain me what happened.

"Take a sit Sebastian"

Ok, maybe I have done something wrong and he wants to talk about it, he always calls me with my complete name when he is angry and the fact that he looks totally calm is making everything worse. But he wouldn't act like this, he would be on his armchair, his throne, making me kneel between his legs, playing with my mind as he likes to do, asking me question, trying to make me understand what I have done wrong and then ( caressing my hair as sweetly as the words of the devil ) he would explain me what he is going to do to me. Which creative punishment his mind made up.

I swing towards the armchair slowly, just to test how he reacts.  
He doesn't say anything, he doesn't even look at me.  
This is so fucking frustrating.  
He is so fucking playing with my mind.  
Jim is the only one man in this hell-hole called Earth that can make me doubt about every step I take. 

I touch softly the leather on its top looking at him and then at the armchair.

" Don't make me repeat myself Sebastian" 

Ok, I must have done something really, really, wrong this time. I have to play this cool.  
I breath deeply and I sit on the armchair streching my fingers over the leather where I rest my arms. It's more confortable than I remember or maybe I am just really tired and this stress isn't help.

That's when he looks up from his book. I always wonder what he reads, he never tells me anything about them, but I could swear that he has read every book of this world.  
He looks at me smiling ( not a genuine smile, but one of his you-can't-imagine-what-I-have-planned-for-you smile ), then he closes the book.

"Is it comfortable?"

He asks me as he really cares about my answer ( I know he doesn't )  
I clear my throat.

"Yes, Jim, yes, it is"

The silence falls again.  
I can't stand this. The waiting, the mind game.  
So I make the next move.  
Staying with Jim is like a freaking chess play.

"What are you reading?"

He arches an eyebrow, looking slightly surprised.

"Do you really care?"

"Yes, I do"

He smiles like you would smile at a child that has just asked you a question with an answer that he won't understand

"De brevitate vitae by Seneca"

He answers and I don't really know what he talking about. It seems latin but I am not really sure.  
He laughs, like he is reading my mind and stands up, walking toward me.

"What does it means?"

The question slips trought my lips before I could stop it and I feel my dry throat burn like fire.  
He laughs again, he laughs about my ignorance, about me being clueless.  
And I am clueless since he comes to me and, opening his legs he sits on me, his arms around my neck, his lips an inch from mine, his clothed erection against mine.  
I wouldn't have ever thought that someday I would have found someone that I would have defined sexy in pijama pants and shirt.  
Wait. THAT is one of MY shirt.  
I love when he wears my shirts at home, it's like a confirmation that he is mine and just mine. I have always been a little bit possessive.  
I swallow hard.

" Do you really want to know it or do you think that you could do some more interesting things right now?"

I don't care anymore. If this is the effect that that Seneca author has on Jim, I swear, I'll buy every single book written by him.  
I feel his breath against my skin and for a second I esitate.

"Do you want to fuck me on this chair or do you need a written invitation?"

I blink once and then I attack him, I kiss him because I want him now, all the tiredness gone, disappeared, I slip my tongue in his mouth while he kiss me back as the force of the nature that he is, but I need more, I put my hands on his hips, sliding them under my shirt, caressing him on his back, scratching him in the fury of the kiss. He smile against my lips and the he backs up.

Such a tease.

He is smiling, this is his game and I just follow his orders. He slip his hands down, to my belt and unbuckles it without many ceremonies and palms my cock throught my boxer, wet my precome.

"Are you already getting hard for me?"

He mocks me and I just nod. He smiles and grabs me hard, stroking softly. I moan trying to claim his lips, but he backs every time I try, so I attack his neck, kissing him, biting him, but I need more skin. I tug his t-shirt and I pull it up trying to remove it as fast as I can.

"So desperate for me 'Bastian"

He laughs, but I keep biting him, his soft pale skin, down to his nipple and he does one of those noise, oh those noise, that make me even more eager than I already am. I move my hand to grab his ass, but he slaps my hand away.

"No, no Sebby. Not until daddy say so, naughty boy."

I don't even try to protest and move my hand on his back, teasing his nipple with my tongue.  
He moans again and arches his back, closer to me.

"Take off your shirt."

He orders and I ( struggling a little 'cause of the little range of moviment that I have ) take my black blood-stained shirt ( this is why I wanted to shower ) off and then I come immediatly back to what I was doing.  
But no, he pushes me back, my back against the backseat and he, his legs open against mine, stand straight, sovrasting me and I don't move, I look at him waiting for the next move, the next order. 

He grins, slowly undoing the tie of his pants and even more sowly, he takes them to his knees.  
Obviously he is commando. He had planned this, all this game.  
He reach for his cock and lazily he strokes himself.

"What do you want baby? Ask your daddy. "

I lick upper lips. I know what I want. 

" I want to fuck you daddy."

I want to bury myself in him and reach me relise there, feeling his asshole squeeze and milk my cock.

" Do you want to do it here, on my armchair?"

I still. As this is a difficult question. Yes I want it. But I don't know if it is the right one.  
I choose to tell the truth, screw the consequences.  
I nod and he grins at me.

" Have you been good boy for me Sebby? Done everything you should have done?"

I nod again hoping to not stumble in a trap. He laughes at me.

"What's up Tiger? Cat's got your tongue?"

I swallow and shake my had.

"So?"

"Yes Daddy, I have been a good boy for you, only for you daddy."

The words slip from my mouth more easier than I would admit, but don't care, I would do anything for him. And it's not like I don't enjoy this game too.

"Yes you are, a perfect boy for daddy. Get the lube."

I look around. The lube is in the bedroom, I should ask Jim to move and then I...

" It's under the armchair, on your left."

He says, reading my mind again.  
I move on my left and start to touch the floor looking for the tube of lube.  
It should be somewhere here... found it.  
I pour some of it on my fingers and wait for further instructions.

"Good boy, prep me good and you'll can take me really soon."

I don't waste time, grabbing his cheek with an hand, teasing his hole with my lubed fingers and then pushing one in.  
He is warm and perfect as always, I can feel his muscle relaxing as I move deeper into him, searching his prostate.  
When I add a second finger he moans and puts an hand over my shoulder to stead himself, close to me, but not close enough.  
And in a second my mouth is on him, biting his already red skin, leaving a trail of red marks on him.  
When I add the third finger he gasps and pants and I know that I have found his special spot.

" Do you want something bigger, little Jim? Do you want me to fuck you?"

Jim can have all the power that he wants in every moment but now no, he somehow needs to let it go. 

"Yes, Seb, yes fuck me now"

I smile, who is the one that looks desperate now?

"Just another finger and I'll fuck you, ok? I know you can take it."

I whisper to him in his ear. He leans down and bites my neck, hard, sucking like a damn vampire.

"Fuck me now or, I swear, I'll have you head on a silver plate for tomorrow morning."

I laughs at his threat ( Not because he wouldn't do it, but because he is starting to overreact )and I slip out my fingers.

"As you wish daddy."

I say taking out my cock from the impossible wet boxer, pumping it and lineaing to his entrance. When he sinks down it's like been in heaven.  
His skin, his heat, his eyes, dark as the deepest night, that look at me without mercy.

This is too intimate to be called "just a fuck" or anything on this line.

He moans an pants, but this is not what I want ( well not exactly, I just want more ) I want him screaming my name, I want him to be me to make him come.

I growl thrusting deep inside of him, hoping to hit his sweet spot ( And from his noises I can't tell that I am hitting it ), while he grows harder, precome cooling on my abs. I take his dick into my hand and I start pumping

"Se-Sebastian!"

He shouts and I grin

"What do you want, kitten? Do you want to come?" 

Ok, maybe this is a huge mistake, but I'll regret it later, now I am too much overwhelmed by this, by us, by me fucking him on his freaking throne. I thighten my grip on his cock and he shouts

"YES! I want to!"

I tried to do not get caught by him when I smile. It's not that hard, his eyes are closed, back arched, head leaned back, throat completely exposed, pale skin illuminated by the light of the fire from the fireplace behind us.

"Ask nicely and I'll let you come" 

I say with a surprising steady voice since I am really close to come. He moans again, maybe unsure if give in or not, and then groans.

"Tiger, please, I need to come, let me come."

That's it. I start pumping faster and thrusting harder and he comes all over my hand, his clenching walls thighten around my cock and after a couple of thrust he milks al my come out of me.

While I try to get my breath back he settles to rest on my chest. I don't move. I don't want this to end. His head over my heart, his chest raising and falling over me and his hand caressing ( affectionately ) an old scar over my pectoral. His come his drying between us and honestly I don't want that. I clear my voice.

"Jim, Boss, we need to clean" - subtext : kitten please move, so I can go to the bathroom get a towel and clean us. Or maybe we coulf just take a shower together and start the round two. - 

"No we don't. carry me to bed." - subtext : No we don't. bring me to bed. -

He replies snuggling on me thighter  
I blink once. Usually Jim... doesn't get this touchy after sex. He usually kicks me out of the bed or he send me to bring water for him.

"Ok"

I answer without thinking anything else ( or I'd get crazy ) and I stand up taking him up with me in a princess style, waiting to be slapped or an insult of his but nothing comes. He just snuggles again close to me and doesn't say anything. He is so small in my arms, he looks like a grumpy tired and bored cat most of the times. I smile. This man is the paradox personified. He has one of the largest web in the criminal world, Moriarty's name is feared anywhere... and here it is. In my arms, falling asleep.

I live him on his bed and I tuck him, already thinking about the long shower that I am going to take.  
I am leaving when I feel Jim's hand on my wrist.

"Stay"

He says. I am stucked, but this doesn't stop my brain from follow the order.  
I lay behind him, deciding to spoon him. Damn right, if I am going to do this it's all or nothing.

"Tiger"

He calls me.

"Yes?"

I ask, he looked so sleepy two minutes ago.

" Call me kitten again and I'll kill you."

I laugh softly, sliding my hand on his chest, bringing him closer to me.

"As you wish daddy."

**Author's Note:**

> I thanks my father for being my clueless lab rat and tried all the movements that I needed, to see if they were possible or not, because he is tall as Sebastian Moran ( that in my mind is Micheal Fassbender ) so... *waves* thanks dad!


End file.
